Tag Archives: sensation

Hold On, Fall Away

Do you know
I count your heartbeats before you sleep?
I bite my fingernails to bone
And then I crawl back under the stairwell
To a place I call my home…

~*~

Hold on, she says, and her suspended voice feels like a serpentine blossom, mutinous choking thorns wrapped gracelessly around the wall of my deflated lungs’ chambers, puncturing them effectively and leaving me gasping for the air that never enters my mouth.

But I can’t breathe anymore, I implore.

Hold on, that simple phrase again, manipulative and senseless, gently caressing the convoluted scars on my wet face like quietly-raining feathers from a fallen divine being’s cast wings, the burning touch barely grazing past decrepit flesh, ethereal and gossamer.

I didn’t want to miss anything, but the wind is chafing my dehydrated eyes. So I blink. I suddenly feel dizzy and nearly fall flat on my back, reveries resting as I attempt to steady myself. Sleep would be so merciful right now.

Hold on, another rousing round to jolt back the drowsy senses of my rapidly-decaying nerves. Each uttered word is like the sweetest taste of corrupted fruit in an exegesis dream, and I can’t allow myself to swallow it anymore, even if I took the first bite of sin.

Don’t make me do this. A foreign voice breaks the muffled barrier, and I flinch in static shock before shamefully realising that the unfamiliar sound was my own. Who…who was I now?

Hold on, the conversation hits like a loaded shotgun with a chipped bayonet, bullet penetrating the back of my head and cracking my skull once, before the sharpened blade cleanly slices through my wandering brain, a merciless double kill for certainty. Bang. Crash. Slash. Crack. Death.

I’m forgetting the colour of your hair now, the dainty lavender scent that follows you around everywhere you flutter, the way your plush lips mouthed serenades that collided and lit up fireworks in my reflection; I’m forgetting the sensation of seeing you, of wanting to see you again.

Hold on, the promenading whisper has amalgamated into an earsplitting scream now, dangerous hedonism dancing in demons and demigods around my shattered ears, past my constricting throat, relentlessly waltzing in wearied circles over and under what used to be the armistice memory of you.

No—My deteriorating vision blurs and falters, cascading and collapsing in iridescent shades of gold and silver, coalescing in glistening hues of diamonds and rubies, fluctuating in pastel blossoms of jasmines and forget-me-nots, all before shutting down into that damning void of sempiternal blackness. The last thing I saw with my weakening sight was her colourless ashen eyes tear up once, twice.

Hold on…was the last thing I ever heard.

~*~

Murder the moment!
My god, I’m the serpent
I’m sorry, I can’t see
That you truly love me…

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Gloom Boys in Natural Blue

I have candy floss over my eyes, and no one can ever take that away from me.

I’m a double dare away from jumping into the clouds and getting lost in heaven, and even though their motionless lips tell me otherwise, imploring that the despondent sun will burn my frail skin and my charred cape will drag me back down into the ground, I’ll simply fly over them and defy what it means to be human.

For being an angel is not made of mere matchsticks and febriculic feathers, rather, it is the catastrophic sensation of breathing in your existence from your lungs and never letting it go, holding your oxygen in so tight that your chest will hurt, and tasting the very molecule that the wind is built up of, all before exhaling heavily and letting others share the light that passed the very chambers of your symphonic heart, and inhaling that decadent love once more like it’s the only sugar high you need.

I’ll be dancing a hundred footsteps as I reverently play the halo’s mellifluous beat around my head over and over again, but I shall never get tired of laughing and listening, and the glow never fades, the glow never coalesces into a darker retrospect of aspirations and bad habits, the glow is etched at the very back of my confounded head and if I close my eyes and wish a little softer, I can see pastel whispers floating and resonating behind my dreams, smiling quietly as it tells me fairy stories about twill reveries and acrylic oneirism.

Will you tell me that much? Will you beg in blazing yellow and speak in purple hand grenades, waking up again when the water parks detonate and soothing water splashes everywhere? This is not my gloomy lullaby meant to be kept under hushed tones and clandestine affinities, buried under the bones of ‘92, rather it is an everlasting caprice that is meant to be jubilantly shouted from the rooftops, until the nightingales and mynas and bluejays and hummingbirds mimic the colours in my eyes and echoes back a chromatic rainbow to be chased.

Am I not making any sense, or is the semblance of my self-optimistic throes withdrawing like violent ocean waves? It is not their fault, and it certainly isn’t mine. It’s yours. It’s all yours. This nonsensical tirade making me backlash the usual defamation that is my wretched soul, making me passionate for what used to be desert sand and black light, now efflorescent flowerbeds and ultraviolet ecstasy, making me smile and laugh childishly at the most fickle of things like a madman staring limerently into the cornflower moon. You let a playful cyclone into my bedroom while I was sleeping, and it ravaged my closet and spun me all the way to your window until I was sickly dizzy, and you held your hand out to steady me and pulled me in, winking cheekily at the cyclone and returning its breezy grin before waving it goodbye.

Now that I’m here, will you promise to keep me? Airplane conversations and clustered entertainment isn’t enough to leave me amused. Are you laughing at my sadness yet? Are you performing odes along to me mournfully singing about the underhanded depression that makes me mad all the time and fucks my worried flurried mind up when the night is young and makes me go down the long road home? I’m a car crash that you can’t ever look away from, and I can’t ever look away from you. But don’t follow me to the site of the wreck. If your favourite set of stairs is the one up to my room, piece together the trail of love notes I left in the kitchen that say it all, and when you find me, I won’t ever have to let you go up. Let’s be lucky people, you and me.

Amid tantrums and crybabies, you’re nothing but rare. I may not be a warrior and you may think I’m the worst, but I know I don’t have to sleep alone again. So won’t you stay awake, stay awake for me? If you’re singing about la-la-la-love, my tune is more to the beat of a la-la-la-lobotomy. You’re my yellow lovely jealousy, in natural blue and viridian green memories, I’m losing my mood in a late night phone call, shading everything else from silver to pink to hiding under porches and craving territorial phantasms, it doesn’t matter. My common sense is powerless when you speak, and I’m not royal but I’m stupid for you, and 11:11 can go away because I don’t wish for anything else. I’m tired. You’re tired. Let’s be tired together. It’s more fun that way, don’t you think?

I have gloomy clouds over my eyes, and only you can ever take that away from me.

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Cutless

It feels like a decade

Since these tears last bled

And the moon in my sober eyes

Were thoroughly wasted

When the sentient papercuts

Barely felt a modest sting

And the headlights overhead

Were blindingly glaring

When nights were spent praying

But the car crash never arrived

Acid sensation uncontrollable

But no one ever died

It feels like a decade since

The reaper knocked on my wrists

I swept my sins but I still don’t know

What it’s like to be completely free.

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¡Viva Las Vegas!

A pretty picture but the scenery is so loud
A face like heaven catching lighting in your nightgown
But back away from the water, babe, you might drown
The party isn’t over tonight (lighting in your nightgown)
Hey, where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?
Hey, out the backdoor, goddamn but I love her anyway!

~*~

Don’t wipe off your embalmed makeup just yet

I adore you sweetheart, I’ll kiss you for a bet

Poise and irrationality’s the poison of the victim

A pretty covert movie with the lighting dim

.

Memories of a fading twisted tongue collide

Sophistication sliding off the laudanum side

And all the girls at night are making me sweat

And the boys cheer me with wolf calls of respect

.

Empty bottles of gin, dribbling off your chin

The Vegas lights are burning, all-in, and I win

Snatches of conversations swim past my ears

Saline and formaldehyde of cascading tears

.

So say what you mean, and don’t be afraid

This city is yours, take the applause you paid

It’s history, the avenue and boulevard is lined

And they’re all aching to dissect your mind

.

Every perspective approaches home so near

Nicotine stains, champagne, and stench of fear

Hijack my medal eyes and render me numb

Replace the lens of the camera, pop your gum

.

Forget the nightly cabaret, the burlesque shame

The motel room you rented absolves the blame

Dust away the contrite asbestos off your waistcoat

The caricature masks are ready for the grand show

.

We’re decomposing arrogantly in beautiful quiet messes

Girls dancing in white dresses, formidable men with roses

Foreign deaths alluding veracity, chaotic hurricane storms

Velvet lips sealed under the threat of sin, smiling in scorn

.

This night we will sink so low, so wash me away and drop the anchor

Waltzing along with secret admirers and falling asleep on a stranger

It’s a sensation in Viva Las Vegas, a scandal of grandiloquent galantine

So sit back and drink your daiquiris, you’re in for a surprise of romantic machines.

~*~

Climbing out the back door, didn’t leave a mark
No one knows it’s you, Miss Jackson
Found another victim, but no one’s gonna find
Miss Jackson, Jackson, Jackson…

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emetic

this stomachache

is more than i can take

a carnage nauseam

painted in its wake

an anxious sensation

is more than i can take

another second more

and i might just break.

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